


Hope awakens, Light rests

by SonicCeleste



Series: Crystals and Rolanberries [12]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bard Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff, Happy Ending, I love these precious catboys, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), happy reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26106523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicCeleste/pseuds/SonicCeleste
Summary: “Right then, let’s sort you out, shall we sweetness?”[MAJOR 5.3 SPOILERS]The deed has been done, and everything has turned out well. All that remains is for No’a to throw wide the gates and retrieve his last hard-earned prize, and stay awake long enough to make the return trip.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Crystals and Rolanberries [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841296
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Hope awakens, Light rests

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes 5.3 made me CRY but I wanted more WoLExarch (would it just be WoLRaha now?) so I wrote this missing scene like so many others. <3

No’a still held no small amount of trepidation about the plan. His heart raced in his chest, keeping him much too alert for someone who’d gone two straight days without sleep, and each step he took from the Syrcus Trench through to Mor Dhona seemed to trip a new worst-case scenario alarm in his head. What if the vessels get mixed up, what if they have a time limit, what if they chink against each other and break off a crucial piece… but then he remembered all the heartfelt farewells from Norvrandt. The Crystarium’s collective prayers. And… he remembered G’raha’s words. The words he would never have believed, clinging to his beloved’s quickly crystallising body, if it weren’t for G’raha forcing him to look into those impossibly bright ruby eyes, glowing with hope and happiness. A reassurance.

Their promise would be kept. They _would_ be together again, the two of them, for their next adventure. And because of that, the plan should-

Can-

No, _will_ work. He had to believe. He chose to believe. For everyone’s sake.

As he, Tataru and Krile placed the spirit vessels next to the bodies of the Scions, though, No’a still kept his emotions tempered, stubbornly pushing down his anxious tics. Most of them, anyway - he couldn’t stop his tail from thrashing wildly even if he wanted to, which didn’t go unnoticed if the gentle pat against his leg by Krile was any indication.

_Keep it together,_ he told himself. _Just in case disaster occurs. Just in case the cycle repeats again._

But as the crystals shimmered and pulsed into life, aether seeming to pour from each one and surrounding their respective bodies, the last remaining doubts in his mind started to fade away. One by one the Scions finally, _finally_ opened their eyes, sitting up, complaining about exhaustion but otherwise alive and well and _whole_ again. The plan was a success! He’d have to tell Beq Lugg and Ryne as soon as he could; the Exarch had another hard-earned victory to his list.

Speaking of…

“Well, seeing as we’re in no fit state to travel, may we leave the rest to you, No’a?” Y’shtola asked, a knowing smile on her face while Tataru looked at her in confusion. “I can think of no-one better suited for the task anyroad, considering your history.”

With a light blush that betrayed the nonchalant demeanour he was still keeping up, the bard pulled out the last vessel delicately, watching it glow almost blindingly bright.

_He must’ve enjoyed that adventure through Norvrandt… or he’s just excited._

No’a only half-listened to Urianger’s explanation of the vessel’s use of Allagan blood, already knowing the answer thanks to the cognitive magic of putting two and two together, and no sooner did the last overly fancy syllable leave the Elezen’s lips the bard was off like a bullet out the doors of Seventh Heaven and down the roads of Mor Dhona, Tataru’s calls and Pip’s disgruntled chirps long behind him - his only stop being to let his golden riding chocobo Adamas out of his stable before resuming his run.

As No’a sprinted past the camp of the Sons of Saint Coinach, Adamas following close behind, he got multiple stares and whispers in his direction - where was the Warrior of Light running to? Were they in danger? And (whispered by one of the women in poorly-concealed jealousy) how did he ever manage to run so fast in such delicate heels anyway?

However, as one researcher dared herself brave enough to try and run after him, Rammbroes stopped her in her tracks with a single arm outwards. “He’s fine. Leave him be.”

The researcher frowned, tilting her head up to the scholar. “How can you be so sure? It must be something important if he’s going that fast…”

“Oh, it’s important for certain, but not in the sense that it’s a threat. Didn’t you see?” Rammbroes asked, a joyful glint in his eye behind his glasses as he watched the small blue and rolanberry figure run through the crystal gate. “The Warrior of Light was smiling like all his namedays has come at once. And if my guess is correct, they might as well have done! On that note, gather the others - we need to prepare…”

Indeed, with a newfound burst of energy No’a couldn’t stop his beaming smile growing into a massive grin the closer he got to his goal, the vessel clutched tight against his chest as the heavy doors he watched G’raha Tia disappear behind thundered open for the crystallised blood of Allagan royalty. As he stepped through and the doors shut behind him, however, a realisation hit him, and his grin grew comically strained.

“... He didn’t tell me where he was sleeping.”

His shoulders slumped as he sighed, looking up at Adamas with a resigned smile before pulling a gyashl green out of his bag and feeding it to the bird as an early apology. “I think we’ll be here for a while, mate.”

The bird simply chirped in high spirits once he finished his dinner, making his way forward himself with No’a jogging behind. As they journeyed through the tower together, up winding crystal staircases and through long, echoing corridors, No’a found himself reminiscing on days both recent and long ago. How he and the ragtag group of adventurers from Mor Dhona cleared the way to the top of the tower in a flurry of steel and magic, each foe more powerful than the last until they finally reached and subsequently defeated the Allagan Emperor Xande.

How just short of a day ago he pretended not to notice G’raha unsuccessfully hiding a fond smile as they both ran up those selfsame steps, the tower ringing with overwhelming aether as summoning spells appeared left and right to try and stop them from reaching their final foe.

How his heart felt like it was going to break when G’raha tripped and fell and he saw yet more crystal overtaking his beloved’s body.

He supposed it was the threat of the First at risk and his usual “on the clock” personality shift that kept him stoic throughout that whole endeavour, but looking back No’a was surprised at himself for not shedding a single tear when his love was slowly dying next to him that whole time - not even when the deed was done and all that was left of him was crystal. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d cried after the Waking Sands attack, he’d cried over Haurchefant, and the other lost Scions; yet none of them came close to how he felt about G’raha, and he hadn’t even felt tears well up in his eyes. Maybe he was just in shock? The adrenaline of fighting Elidibus _still_ hadn’t worn off, and his Lightwarden trauma didn’t manifest in any way until many moons later when he accidentally drank that damn spoilt milk...

… Or maybe it was the fact that G’raha _was_ next to him the whole time that kept him from breaking down. Despite what was happening to him the Exarch remained resolute and positive, determined to save his people’s hopes and dreams before they were sullied any further by Elidibus. The sheer willpower he held, the strength he had to keep hoping was… inspiring. For too long had No’a seen things come to a close at a great cost. Death and suffering of innocents for the sake of a good ending - not a happy one, just a good one - had just seemed necessary after a time. Seeing G’raha’s conviction, his defiant spirit in the face of that war-weary belief, it had made No’a stronger in turn; it was the strength that kept him going as he stared down that bogus Warrior of Light Elidibus had turned into at the top of the tower.

As No’a had become his inspiration, he in turn had become No’a’s. It was funny how things had worked out like that.

Finally they reached the carpeted halls where Amon once stood, and aside from a velvet curtain missing from a broken pole nothing seemed to indicate that G’raha slept in the area. That left just one last place that No’a knew was safe - the tower’s peak, where Emperor Xande once stood. Halfway up the final staircase, however, before he could peer beyond the stairs and at the grand arena, he found himself suddenly frozen to the spot, unable to take another step no matter how much he willed his legs to move again. Adamas looked back at him and chirped, head tilted in confusion.

“… Sorry, just a second.” No’a offered a reassuring smile to the bird, who gave him an almost sympathetic look and walked back down the steps towards him, nudging his beak against his ear and making it flick. No’a let out a breathy chuckle and pet him affectionately. For a brief distracted second, he wondered if Adamas held the same level of affection for him that Seto held for Ardbert.

_Without a doubt. The looks he gives you are almost Spoken._

No’a smiled at the voice, then up at the chocobo. “Thanks, Adamas. I guess I’m just… The last time I was here, I watched him… rather, his body die, you know?” No’a looked up, out towards his destination, the sky turning a warm orange. Despite growing up nocturnal he’d always found the shades of sunset comforting for some reason, and with the new addition to his soul crystals in his pocket, he now had an inkling as to why. “I know it’s ridiculous, _that_ version of him is on the First, but…”

Despite his words trailing off Adamas seemed to understand, and leant down to gently nip and pull at No’a’s wrist.

“... Good idea. Together, then.”

He took a deep breath, then another, then finally willed his legs to take those last few steps up towards the top of the tower. His breath then stopped for too many seconds to be healthy.

The crystal throne stood tall and mighty, glowing a bright blue against the warm orange sky - Xande’s symbol of absolute power and leadership during his reign over Allag. And there, nestled in one of the corners, was a shape of red and gold that seemed minuscule in comparison to the throne it laid upon. The last Allagan prince - though he insisted on never using the title - all too fragile-looking in his inherited domain.

“Raha.”

No’a was running before he even realised he had moved. While Adamas made himself busy by fetching a drink from the ever-flowing spring, No’a’s gaze never moved from his prize as he ran his way over, his legs finally starting to ache from exertion as he leapt over the pool separating the arena from the throne and scrambled his way up the enormous crystal block of the seat to kneel before G’raha’s sleeping form.

The Seeker’s face was the very same as it had been before the tower doors slammed shut; soft and gentle, with no crystal making its claim on him yet. Though his hair had grown past his shoulders now, time had otherwise been exceptionally kind to him. It was almost startling; it was as if he had simply curled up to take a catnap under the sun mere bells ago, not locked himself away for several years with the expectation of slumbering for centuries. No’a gently put his hand to G’raha’s cheek - and almost jolted when it was cold as ice, his mind racing with panic before his eyes settled on the steady rise and fall of the Seeker’s chest. He was alive still. Just the stasis. That was good. He could keep hoping.

“Right then… Let’s sort you out, shall we sweetness?” As he did with the Scions, No'a gently placed the vessel next to G’raha, the quiet _clink_ of crystal on crystal making him wince. Then he sat back and waited. His eyes were growing heavier, threatening to close, but he forced himself to stay focused. It was a delayed reaction, as to be expected, but it felt like bells had passed before the vessel sprung to life, G’raha’s aether leaving the crystal before twinkling and floating aimlessly for a brief moment, as if lost.

“No, no no no, you’re right there sweetness, see?” No’a whispered, reaching out to guide the aether but quickly withdrawing his hand - what if he absorbed some of it by accident? “Just move a bit over, come on, you’re almost there…”

The aether seemed to react to his pleading, resonating with his own aether in a way that strangely made him calm. Another reassurance, he realised, but he couldn’t help but frown - _I’m not the one to worry about right now!_ Before long though the aether found its goal, and seemed to glow even brighter as it soared into G’raha’s body without hesitation, pouring into him like a flood until there was nothing left, the vessel grew dark, and then there was silence. No movement, no noise. Just… silence. No’a couldn’t help but think that it should’ve felt more triumphant, but it wasn’t over yet after all.

“Raha?” the bard whispered, his heart in his throat as he hesitantly placed his hand onto the Seeker’s cheek again.

_Warm._ So it worked…?

“Sweetness, love? Can you hear me?”

… No response. No’a bowed his head. Something had changed, that much was certain, but he hadn’t shown any signs of waking yet. Maybe it was just taking more time? He was trying to occupy an already occupied body, after all, even if it was his own… Even so, despite his hope and his certainty of his beloved’s return No’a was starting to worry again. Was there nothing he could do to help the process along?

“... There’s always… Even if I’m not technically a Katri anymore…”

No’a gingerly took his hand back and clasped them together in a brief prayer for the first time in years, hesitating for a second as he struggled to remember the words his estranged mother taught him all those years ago. “Loving… Loving moon, with your gentle light, hear your Keeper’s wish this night… Menphi, you have to help me. I’m still devout to you, and he’s the love of my life - that’s your whole thing, isn’t it? He’ll be here soon, I know he will, he just… needs some extra help, I think. So please, watch over the both of us while I do this, would you?”

There was no tangible response, the moon barely starting to show as the last of the sun set, but after all these years of talking with her he knew how Menphina worked her ways. There wasn’t a need for her to reply when he already knew the answer. Of course she’d watch over them. She probably had been already.

With a deep breath and a hand moving to gently rest on G’raha’s chest, No’a closed his eyes and started to purr. A low, deep rumble that resonated with the surrounding aether. His tribe had always used it as a traditional method of healing and protection for those dear to them, and at this moment there was no-one dearer to him than G’raha Tia. It _had_ to work. He _had_ to be okay.

He _promised._ And No’a believed.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, his voice starting to grow hoarse and his purrs starting to break here and there, until a subtle shift made the bard startle into silence. A stuttering movement against his palm. He didn’t dare to even take a breath for fear that he had imagined it all… until long-closed eyes slowly fluttered open with a soft, content hum.

“Mm… Good morning, No’a,” A voice, groggy and low with sleep, mumbled as ruby red eyes lifted upwards to gaze at the sky. “Or, by the looks of it, good evening?”

No’a simply laughed, singular, breathless and maybe slightly delusional, as he watched G’raha slowly sit up and rub the sleep out of his eyes before the Seeker caught a glimpse of his right arm and looked at it in awe. A quick touch to his chest, his neck, his face confirmed that yes, there was no crystal to speak of on his new, old body. The Tower hadn’t claimed him, which meant that all had gone well and as he realised that, _oh,_ how his impossibly bright eyes shone even brighter…!

And then their eyes finally met, ruby and amber, and it was as if the whole world had stopped. Seconds felt like hours. As No’a finally found his nerve again and slowly reached up to brush some of G’raha’s hair away from his face, he was still half-expecting it all to fade away, like a dream. It all felt too good to be true, and yet…

G’raha beamed at him, lifting his own hand, his right hand that was no longer - never was - crystal, and tenderly stroked the tattoos on No’a’s cheek. “I told you, didn’t I? That we’d meet again.”

No’a nodded. “I knew you’d be fine, once I saw the Scions return,” he replied with a small smile, despite his voice breaking ever so slightly. “I believed in you, sweetness.”

“And I in you.” G’raha leant in, slowly as to not startle the bard, and kissed him. Yet another reassurance that what was happening was real, that he was still the same G’raha that he fell in love with on the First. That the dreaded cycle had been broken, and no undeserving blood had to be spilled for it to be so.

“It seems,” G’raha said with a smile as he pulled away to gently bump their foreheads together, ruby eyes welling up, “that you get to keep your happy ending after all, No’a.”

And it was with those softly spoken words that No’a’s emotional dam broke in two, his last semblance of stoicism lost as his eyes overflowed with tears, a watery but genuine grin across his face as he practically leapt forward to bring G’raha into the tightest embrace he could muster. He buried his hands into bright red hair, untouched by time. He let his tears fall against the tattoos on G’raha’s neck that had been - never had been - hidden by blue crystal.

“You’re home, Raha, you’re safe and okay and you’re _home…_!”

The same words kept tumbling out of the bard’s mouth over and over as he brought G’raha closer to him still, refusing to let go of his hard-earned victory as he openly wept. Luckily G’raha had no intention of cutting their time together short, holding No’a close as well and taking in all the emotions between them right at that moment as he silently shed his own tears. Sorrow, grief, joy, relief, _love…_ It was hard to tell which came from whom, but all were immense. Perhaps they all came from both of them, and that was why it all felt so overwhelming. Not that it mattered - all that was important right now was each other, and they stayed together, holding on for dear life, until the last few tears were spent and they both eventually relaxed their grip on one another to gaze once again into each other’s eyes.

“... R-right then,” No’a cleared his throat, wiped his eyes and gave another shaky grin to G’raha, clearly trying to restore himself to some semblance of normalcy. “Why don’t we, uh, head back to the Rising Stones? I expect everyone’s wondering what’s taking so long… and I’m willing to bet Pops has already made a few suggestions.”

G’raha chuckled and nodded, putting his makeshift blanket to one side as he stretched and made his way down the enormous crystal throne - only for his legs to buckle at his first step. He narrowly missed the floor thanks to No’a catching him, a gesture that, even after their intimate moment seconds earlier, left him blushing out of embarrassment. “S-sorry… It appears my body’s not as awake as the rest of me.”

To his surprise, No’a laughed - his loud, proper laugh this time. His expression was brighter too, back to how he usually was - it seemed what just happened was a long-needed moment of catharsis. “I thought you’d be exhausted - the others are as well. Luckily for you, you’ve got the comfiest chocobo ride in Mor Dhona all lined up for you! Fit for a prince such as yourself~”

_Ah._ G’raha’s blush grew deeper. He was still going to use that line even on the Source, then.

At the sound of a melodious whistle Adamas stood from where he’d been resting by the pool and trotted over, letting G’raha get up onto his back without trouble before the three of them made the long, winding journey back down the tower. As they walked, G’raha kept his gaze solely on the bard’s back and found himself beaming to himself once again. Truly, the entirety of the Twelve had to have been watching over them to be able to grant them this miracle. The First had been saved, as had the Scions, and even he was able to return to the Source and join his beloved for the rest of their days together. By all accounts this had a very slim chance of occurring, and yet here they were. It all just proved that hope was indeed an everlasting force to be reckoned with. How lucky that he’d placed all his hope into the right man.

His introspective thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud yawn that echoed down the long corridor that led out of the Tower. He looked down and smiled in amusement as he noticed No’a struggling to keep his eyes open with each step he took. “Are you alright, No’a?”

“’m fine,” No’a mumbled in reply before almost tripping over his own feet clumsily to prove the exact opposite. “Being up for almost three days straight is just a bit tiring, that’s all.”

That sounded like an understatement if G’raha had ever heard one. “You didn’t rest before heading back to the Source?”

“I wasn’t going to rest until I knew you were safe and sound,” was No’a’s uncharacteristically stern reply, though it was hard to take it seriously with another yawn punctuating it. G’raha was about to argue when Adamas suddenly grabbed a mouthful of crystal blue hair and tugged hard, making the bard yelp and glare at him. “The hell-?!”

Adamas glared back and gestured with his head to his back where G’raha was before grabbing the bard’s wrist and pulling him close.

“I think he’s tired of your tough act,” G’raha said with a stifled grin, to which No’a just sighed and reached to pet the bird’s beak.

“Honestly? So am I,” the bard replied. “Haven’t felt this exhausted in ages, I‘m gonna pass out for like a week.” He looked up and gave a tired, lopsided grin before heaving himself up onto Adamas’ back, keeping a hold of the bird’s reins as he leant back comfortably into G’raha, who wrapped his arms around No’a’s waist.

“I hope you realise that even if you’re in the infirmary, we’re going to share a bed,” No’a said with a grin. G’raha blushed furiously.

“N-No’a, that’s hardly-!”

“Not like _that,_ sweetness…” No’a yawned again, though it sounded more like a content sigh. “... Mmmaybe. I think Krile might kick me out if we did.”

The mention of the Lalafell’s name made G’raha perk up. “Krile… Yes, it’ll be nice to see her again. I hope I haven’t made her worry too much during my time away.”

“Mm…”

“No doubt she’ll find a way to tease me about sleeping for so long… Oh, and Rammbroes! How is he?”

“Good…”

“That’s good, that’s good.”

G’raha noticed that Adamas had slowed down to a crawling pace, though he had to admit the gentle rocking movement as they approached Saint Coinach’s Find was relaxing. “Oh, actually, do you mind if we take a quick detour to the camp? If he’s not too busy I’d like to say hello.”

“Mmkay…”

“Thank you. I’ll make it quick, I promise, it’s just been so long since I’ve seen everyone and…”

“...”

“Um… No’a?”

G’raha suddenly realised that the bard felt all too heavy against him and gently shook his shoulder. No’a had fallen asleep against him, mouth slightly agape and breathing steady while he still miraculously held Adamas’ reins. G’raha chuckled quietly and gently pressed a kiss to blue hair, looking up to see Adamas glancing back with a look that could only be described as smug satisfaction.

“It seems we both had the same idea in mind,” G’raha told the bird with a mischievous smile. “It’s a nice change of pace, getting him to rest for a change. Do you know the way back to the Rising Stones?”

Adamas chirped brightly and continued on his path while G’raha took the reins from No’a and held them in one hand while the other kept the sleeping bard steady. He had so much on his mind already now that he was fully awake, his mental list already forming; first he’d reunite with Krile, then check up on the Scions, visit the Find and poke fun at Rammbroes for his wind-up prank, and after that see how this younger body reacted to casting magic for the first time…

“Raha…” No’a mumbled in his sleep. G’raha smiled and held him closer as they entered Revanant’s Toll.

“I’m here, my love. Rest for now - you’ve more than earned it.”

… Ah, but before anything else, he’d have to find a way to get both him - still weak - and No’a - asleep - into the Rising Stones. And maybe get some food, _goodness_ he was hungry…


End file.
